Artifact Induced Epiphany
by lilAzIaNpride24
Summary: There's a reason why you should never touch an artifact without gloves. Clinks & fluffiness.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys! Over the winter break, I decided to try Warehouse 13 as a recommendation from a friend and found that I loved it! I binged watched it in a few days and absolutely fell in love with Claudia and Allison Scagliotti. **

**I also fell in love with Steve and Claudia and soon, they became my OTP for Warehouse 13. **

**Never has a show caused me so much happiness, sadness, and anger. Oh, the feels. **

**Anyways, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Warehouse 13 or any of the characters. I do own the pocket watch however.**

* * *

It had only been an hour since their return from Cincinnati. The pocket watch of one Peter Henlien, inventor of the pocket watch had come onto their radar when two men had disappeared and later, reappeared/found (potato, pu-tah-toe) dead at places significant to them – one was found in the lawn of his childhood home and the other at the location of where he had first met his wife.

Henlien had been exiled to a prison in a small island and the only possession he had had with him was his pocket watch. The last day of his life, he had looked at the view of the vast sea the window of his cell (which was located four stories up) offered him, clutched his pocket watch tightly in his hand, and wished for nothing, but to be able to go back to the park where he and his lover had spent their days. Subsequently, anyone who was in possession of the watch, was thrown back into time (that person would be invisible to everyone and everything around them) to their most treasured place and watch what had happened. However, when the clock hit twelve, the person would be tossed back into reality and be found dead at their most treasured place. Their only possession, the pocket watch.

If you asked Steve, the whole "clock strikes twelve" was a little too "Cinderella-y" for him.

The pocket watch had been snagged (with trouble as usual; the object falling into the hands of a collector who refused to relinquish it without a warrant which led them to stealing the object and the collector's German Shepherd chasing after them of twenty blocks) bagged, and now, tagged.

Steve placed the pocket watch on the small velvet cushion and tapped the tablet in front of it a few times until it read, "Peter Henlien's Pocket Watch. Throws whoever is in possession back in time to their most treasured place. Downside: Death."

He ran his fingers over the face of the watch slowly. It still amazed him how such innocuous looking objects could cause so much harm.

_Endless wonder, indeed._

He let out a sigh and walked to Artie's office. When he entered the office, he found Artie was carrying two open books and a bunch of papers in his hands walking over to his desk. He heard _psshh_ of the door opening as Claudia came through it, throwing her messenger bag onto one of the chairs.

He turned around and said, "Oh good, you're here."

"Artie, I've been here the whole time." Steve said as-a-matter-of-factly, but there was no response. He looked over at Claudia who had a pissed off and annoyed expression on her face. What happened to her? What happened to her clothes? And her hair?

Her hair was shorter, with a blue streak in it. And she looked…younger?

"Well, the blood sample that Pete sent over," Artie waved a paper in Claudia's face and she angled her head aside, her face expressionless, (_Blood sample? What Blood sample? Pete was at the B&amp;B with Myka on a paternity leave for their two week old son, Isaac) _"had trace elements of silver nitrate in it, which is not commonly found in human blood. Haha! What does that mean?" Artie took a pause and shook his head slowly, bringing other papers to his desk where Claudia sat, her fingers typing away at the keyboard. "I have no idea. So, what I-" Artie raised his head to look at Claudia, expecting a response, but found her response-less and tense. "H-how was your date?"

_Date? The hell was going on?!_

"It was perfect," she said, the monotony in her voice obviously giving her lie away.

"Oh. Good," Artie tapped his hand on the papers in front of him and walked back towards the round table by the filing cabinets to retrieve more papers of research. _God, Artie is so oblivious sometimes._

"So as I was saying, human blood doesn't," Claudia stopped typing, stood up in annoyance and faced Artie, who was still rambling about whatever the hell he was rambling about, a folder and more papers in his grasp, "actually, no kind of blood has silver ni-" Artie, taken aback Claudia's expressionless face, asked, "What?"

"What kind of advice is be yourself? Artie, that's the worst advice I've ever heard. Because myself is… a giant freakazoid with no past and, and no real interests outside of my top secret job which I can't talk about. Oh, _and_ I like onions!" Claudia walk over to the arm chair in the corner, as Artie was surprised at the impromptu rant.

Steve watched as Claudia picked up her guitar and picked the strings in a half-hearted attempt to distract herself.

He walked over to her and made an attempt to comfort her, to tell her that she was beautiful and amazing when his hand passed through her guitar. "What the-"

_…That person would be invisible to everyone and everything around them…_

"Shit," he cursed.

Steve stood up and paced around, his hands clasped on top of his head. _Breathe, Steve. Think. How the hell are you going to get out of here?!_ There had to be some way to get out of this, right? He couldn't just wait until he died. Claudia would bring him back to life and kill him herself.

_Claudia._

Damn. He couldn't leave her. Not again. And definitely not without telling her all his mixed feelings for their relationship that had been troubling him for the past few months.

Suddenly, his vision was becoming blurry and his head spun. He fell to the floor, clutching his head within his hands; it throbbed painfully.

_Damn._

* * *

**A/N: Peter Henlien was in fact the inventor of the pocket watch. The whole exile thing was my creation. Who knows, maybe he was exiled? **

**A/N: I plan on making another chapter or another two chapters. I'll probably update tonight or tomorrow. **

**A/N: Please leave a review, it would be appreciated. There's a fine line between hate and critique. The latter is happily welcome. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Here's the chapter I promised. It's way too fun to write this story. Maybe a few more chapters. Hehe. ^^**  
**Enjoy~**  
**Disclaimer: I do not own _Warehouse 13_ or any of the characters.**

* * *

Claudia trotted down the silent aisle of Havershim-824 as she held a clipboard in her hands.

'_Straight off a plane from Ohio and Artie throws me inventory. Great.' _She thought.

"Policeman's badge. Check. Orville Redenbacher's pan. Check. Christopher Columbus' apron. (Apparently, the infamous explorer loved to cook; she smirked.) Check. Peter Henlien's pocket watch. Double check." She listed off.

She gave a look at the watch that she and Steve had acquired and frowned. That dog had been vicious. As she continued down the aisle, she became acutely aware of the _tick tock_ of a clock reverberating loudly throughout the silence. Claudia stopped in her tracks and turned around, staring menacingly at the pocket watch.

_It was _not _supposed to be ticking. _

Claudia took a step forward and opened the lid to find the two elegantly crafted hands ticking and tocking away. _Shit. _

She stuffed her gloved hand into her pocket while tucking the clipboard under her arm and took out her Farnsworth.

"Artie!" She exclaimed.

"What is it, Donovan? These artifacts aren't going to find themselves, you know." He stated, exasperated.

There was a sense of ambiguity in her next words, "We might have a bit of a problem."

**.**

As soon as Artie saw her standing in the aisle, trying to look as innocuous as possible, he knew something was wrong. His voice precise and threatening, he asked, "What. Did. You. Touch?"

"Me? No. I didn't do anything wrong. Steve, well, he might've touched something." Claudia took a step back and nodded at the ticking time bomb. Literally. _Okay, maybe not literally. Half of that was literal…_

Artie pushed his glasses up and walked towards the artifact, his eyes still trained on his "daughter."

He handled the object carefully with his purple gloved hands and sighed, "More like a major problem."

**.**

Three hours had passed as they desperately tried to find a way to pull Steve back from his trance. Artie paced back and forth, the pocket watch in his hands (gloved, of course) as the rest of the team sat in the living room of the B&amp;B, franticly trying to find something, _anything, _to bring him back.

"If this pocket watch was created during that time then, oh, no. No, that would react badly to the…" Artie mumbled random words under his breath as he continued pacing.

"Steve's been in there for six hours. He only has six more left." Claudia's breath hitched in her throat as she tried to hide the strain in her voice. "We have to pull him out."

"We will." Myka laid a comforting hand on the younger agent's shoulder and repeated reassuringly, "we will."

Pete had had enough of Artie's incessant panic mode – _he wasn't getting enough sleep as it is._ He rose up from the floor of the living room and with a gloved hand, snatched the pocket watch out of Artie's hands. Taken aback, Artie stopped pacing.

The team gathered around him. He voiced his opinion, "What if we just stop it?"

"That would kill him!" Claudia yelled. _She couldn't lose him again; _wouldn't _lose him again. _

"That might be the only way to get him back. We can neutralize it, but there's no telling what might happen." He saw the tears threatening to fall and took a step forward. "Look, Claud. When someone is entranced by the pocket watch, it starts ticking right?" Unaware if that was meant to be rhetorical, Claudia just nodded slowly. "Then the only logical explanation would be if the ticking stops, the entrancement stops."

Claudia let out a sigh and nodded acquiescingly, this time sure of what Pete was trying to convey.

"Okay," Pete gave a nod and stepped back. He looked at Myka for comfort and she gave a small nod and smile in response. "Okay, show time," he murmured.

Pete stretched out his arm away from him and clicked the button on top of the clock's face. The hands stopped ticking and in a flash of gold light, Steve was kneeling on the floor, head clutched in his hands.

"Steve!" Claudia exclaimed in sheer relief. But it was soon lived as the team watched Steve fall on his side, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Thinking quickly, Myka rushed to one of the end tables and plucked a static bag from its contents. She held it out towards Pete and turned her head. Purple sparks sizzled in the room and Myka closed it quickly.

A gasp of air resonated within Steve and held breaths were released throughout the room. Claudia was kneeling by his side as he breathed slowly. A wicked sense of Déjà vu overwhelmed her as tears fell from her eyes.

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**A/N: Virtual oatmeal scotchies to anyone who spotted the _White Collar_ reference! And for those who review! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! I really enjoyed writing this chapter and it suddenly came to me that this was inspired by an episode of _Bones_. **

**Anyways, enjoy~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Warehouse 13 _or any of the characters**

* * *

The excessive ringing stirred him awake; it was starting to get _really _annoying.

_'Would someone turn that god-awful ringing off already?! Was that beeping?'_

**_Beep. Beep. Beep. _**

_'The hell was going on?'_

**_Beep. BEEP. Beep. BEEP._**

_'Why was it going faster?'_

**_BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP_**

Suddenly, a bright blinding light flashed before his eyes and he was transported to what looked like Claudia's room of the B&amp;B.

"What is this?" He asked aloud.

He didn't really expect an answer, but one came anyways, startling him, "It's the B&amp;B. Claudia's room to be more specific."

He turned around, finding himself face to face with his late older sister.

"Olivia," he breathed, an expression of shock laminated on his face. She still looked twenty (he wondered if this is how Claudia felt when she looked at her older brother) – a memory of their last goodbye flashed across his mind. Suddenly, he was fifteen again, locked up in his room after hearing the news of his sister's death, crying himself to sleep. She had been his best friend and after her death, he had shut everyone out.

"Look at you," she teased, a smirk dancing on her lips, "you're all grown up!"

Steve let out a chuckle and almost immediately, all his worries fell away. He raced up to hug her, encasing her in a hug for a long moment. Olivia didn't try to pull away, instead, she let her little brother hug her, making up for all the hugs she'd missed. "Wait," he pulled away from her, but didn't let go. His hands rested on her upper arms as he deadpanned, "You're dead."

"Yes. Thank you for stating the obvious, Mr. Holmes." Olivia mocked. He had missed that.

He missed _her_.

He had a light bulb moment, "So, does that mean that I'm…" he trailed off.

"Dead?" She nodded. "Yes."

"I-I can't be dead." He relinquished his hold on her and shook his head, "Not again. I can't make Claudia go through that again." He started pacing around the room, his hands clasped on his head. "I have to be there to protect her." Steve tugged at his Henley, his eyes now fixed on his sister. "I _have_ to protect her, Liv." He took a step forward. He had missed those hazel eyes. "I couldn't protect you. But now, I can protect her. I have to get back." He pleaded.

"Steve…" Olivia raked her hand over his arm in comfort.

His gaze fixed upon the door of the room. He rushed towards it, only to find it not budging in the slightest.

"Steve."

He tried using the combination of force and his shoulder to break open the door, but it wouldn't budge.

"You care about her," Olivia stated the obvious.

Finding his efforts useless, he sighed and plopped onto a nearby armchair, head in his hands, elbows resting against his knees. He let out an exhausted sigh. Looking up at his older sister, he admitted, "Yeah, I do."

"Does she know that?" Olivia asked, her arms crossed against her chest.

He was taken aback by the question. "Of course she does."

"But does she _know_ that?" She repeated for emphasis, hoping her oblivious younger brother would understand.

Steve pondered over her question as he dropped his head. _Did Claudia know that he _cared _for her? Did she know about his weird, mixed feelings for her? Did _he_ know the full extent of how much he cared for her? _

When Steve looked back up to ask Olivia something, she was gone. He looked around the room expectantly when the sound of music sounded in the corner. In another armchair, Claudia was strumming the guitar happily as she sang along to the melody. It was a stark contrast to what he saw only moments ago in Artie's office when he was whammied with the artifact.

The artifact.

_Was this just another manifestation of being whammied by the artifact with a freaky weird twist? How was Claudia's room significant to him? Was it because it was where he was revived? Why was Olivia here then? _

The song's crescendo started him out of his reverie. He watched her sing.

In another lifetime, she could've become a rockstar. And him? He would've probably been her security guard or an agent working on a case that was connected to her. Maybe even an agent assigned to her security detail after something traumatic. Maybe in that life, Olivia would've been alive.

He sighed.

As the song reached its end and the laptop in front of her opened to Command Prompt (she typed lines of code as she smiled in pride), he was grateful for everything that happened to him in this lifetime. Especially for Claudia.

Before the junior agent (or rather, senior agent – he smirked at that), he isolated himself from everyone, keeping people at arm's length. Then one day, he took an ambiguous offer from a woman that had broken into his house and stood in the dark waiting for him. And suddenly, he was thrust into a world of endless wonder and introduced to a tech savvy girl with a bit of punk rock flair and a bit of goth who sashayed into his life and set up a permanent base there without asking for his consent.

And he didn't mind because she reminded him so much of Olivia and maybe, just maybe, he could be whole again.

And then, connections were formed and he now had a family after what seemed like a lifetime of being alone – sure, he had his mom, but he had long since been disconnected from her. A dysfunctional, cooky family, but a family nonetheless. And now, it was that family that he needed to get back to.

"She's amazing," Olivia's voice made him jump. He turned to see her standing beside him.

"Would you stop doing that?"

Instead of apologizing, she just smiled.

With a grin on his face, he responded, "Yeah, she is. She's really something. You know, she repaired my relationship with mom." After a pause, he asked, "Wait, if I'm dead, why is she here?" He looked up at the brunette by his side expectantly.

"She's a version made by what you know about her; from your memories. Everybody has someone to ground them. She's your anchor to something real," Olivia nodded towards Claudia.

"And you?" He gave a smile before adding, "Are you supposed to be the ghost of Christmas past or something?"

"Present, actually," she deadpanned.

He looked at her, his face void of any emotion and sarcasm laced in his voice, "Really?"

Olivia shrugged, "More like… your guide."

"Through what?" He asked curiously.

"Your decision."

"Decision?" Olivia gave only a slight nod. A comfortable silence passed by them, the continuous _click clack_ of Claudia's typing filling it.

She was the one to break the silence, "You should tell her how you feel."

Claudia had gone back to strumming her guitar.

"And how do you suppose I do that? I'm dead, remember?"

"That's why I'm here to guide you."

Steve stood up, things finally clicking in his head, "I have a choice?"

"Of course you have a choice," she said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Steve laughed. "You and Claudia would've been amazing friends. You would've loved her. She's just like you; smart, hilarious, witty, incredibly talented." He paused and added, "Sarcastic in every way possible."

That had earned him a punch. The two siblings shared a moment that hadn't been witnessed in a very long time.

He walked over to the middle of the room, watching his BFFEWYLION get lost in her music.

"Remember when I was ten and I wouldn't let you go to sleep until you played a song for me?" Steve smiled, recalling the memory in his head. "Your voice was beautiful." His voice broke.

"She reminds me of myself." She stood behind him, watching Claudia as she played.

Steve nodded, "Me too." The case where they snagged Ulysses S. Grant's flask replayed in his mind. "She taught me how to live life again."

"How to love again." Olivia stated, almost as if she knew. _Who was he kidding? Of course she knew._

A wry grin made its way onto his face as he plopped onto the soft mattress of Claudia's bed. It fell as quickly as it came. "I don't know what to do, Liv."

"What do you mean?" Her gaze was torn from the image of Claudia playing her guitar as diverted to her brother's; her thoughts of nostalgia being reverted to guiding her brother back to the world of the living.

"I love her, but am I in _love_ with her?" He asked, looking up at his sister. "I mean, I'm gay; I like guys. Claudia is clearly _not_ a guy."

Olivia laughed, "So what? Love is love – you can't justify love; it comes in every form imaginable. Just because you're gay doesn't mean you can't find a woman attractive. Just because you're straight doesn't mean that you can't find someone of the same sex attractive."

"But it's more than attraction, Liv. It's…" Steve trailed off, pondering over an apt description of what he was feeling. But no words to perfectly describe this feeling came, so he settled for, "It's like every kind and every form of love. We've been through so much together, it's like… it's like she's a part of me."

Tears welled up in her eyes, she reiterated her earlier sentiment, "You're all grown up,"

"I miss you, ya know." Steve admitted. He stood up.

"I miss you too, tiger." Steve smiled at the long forgotten nickname as he wrapped his arms around her. "You know where I work, Liv. I'm going to find a way to bring you back. I promise."

"Don't." She pulled away from him. "This is supposed to be closure not the overture of something that's never going to happen."

"It's the warehouse, Olivia. Anything can happen. If I just try-"

She interjected, "I'm fine where I am, Steve. Focus on your life, not trying to resurrect mine."

"But Claudia did it with me and I know I can do it with you."

"What? With a skeleton?" Olivia asked, a smile playing on her lips. "It's okay, tiger. It's more than okay." She paused, looking over her brother one last time, "Tell Claudia I say 'Hi'."

"Wait, Liv-"

Before he could say anything else, everything became white and blinding again.

**.**

The beeping became steady again as the sound of air expelled from his lungs. Claudia was really starting to hate that sound. But she loved it because it meant that he was alive. He was _alive_.

* * *

**A/N: I always wondered why they didn't do an episode with Olivia. A flashback perhaps. And also, I just realized that we know nothing about Pete's family despite him being the "main" character. I really wished instead of the soap opera episode, they wrote something more character specific. Though, I loved Claudia's and Steve's case; that was hilarious!**

**A/N: Please be kind enough to leave a review. Thanks. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, guys! Sorry for the wait, but this weekend marked the end of finals week and the end of the first semester. I've been crammed with school, not to mention, I'm kind of sick. But I managed to finish writing this chapter (and had way too much fun doing so). **

**I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Warehouse 13_ or any of the characters. I do, however, own this masterpiece. :D**

* * *

_The beeping became steady again as the sound of air expelled from his lungs. Claudia was really starting to hate that sound. But she loved it because it meant that he was alive. He was alive._

**.**

Everything had returned to normal; His heart rate was steady, his breathing was back to its rhythmic euphony – forever in time with hers. And it had been for some time now, but she still couldn't shake off the feeling of loss. She'd experienced it numerous times before, but she had never fully become accustomed to it. When she had found Steve with his head thrown back, his eyes an empty blue, his skin pale and cold to the touch, she had shut herself down and kept everyone out. The feeling of numbness and monotony throughout every second had taken over her life as her whole and the only thing that kept her sane was her intense focus on catching Walter Sykes and trying to resurrect Steve.

So when his heart stopped, so had hers (not literally – they were no longer connected by the metronome) and all of the anger, pain, numbness, and monotony came rushing back as her world crumbled around her once again. The image of his lifeless face thrown back and the feeling of his cold fingers under hers reemerged in her mind. Suddenly, she was back at the hanger, screaming in horror as her heart broke and she found his lifeless body, tears streaking her face.

"Mmm," his mumble harshly jerked her from her thoughts.

"Steve?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

His eyes opened slowly, revealing a sea of blue that had always offered her a sense of safety and warmth.

"Hey, Claud." His voice was gravelly and raw as the nickname tumbled off of his tongue so easily as if it was second nature. She never felt more relieved than in this moment. She had had the nickname since forever, but whenever Steve had used it, she felt a sensation she couldn't quite place that made her feel whole.

He finally took in his surroundings, "How long was I out?"

"Three days." Her voice was small.

"What?" _It couldn't have been that long._ He pushed himself up on the half-raised hospital bed.

"You died, Jinksy. You died." Her voice broke.

"I know, Claude." He said.

"For three minutes, Steve. You died for three minutes and it was like – wait, what?" She sat up in her seat by his bedside, confusion etching its way onto her features.

"I saw Olivia."

"You _saw_ her."

Steve nodded. "I know it sounds crazy, but I did. We talked. I found closure. You really would've liked her, Claude." When she didn't respond, he stated, "She says 'Hi.'"

"You _saw _her," she reiterated. "And she told you to tell me that she says 'Hi.'"

Steve nodded.

"I know our artifacts do crazy things, but how hard did that thing whammy you?!" Claudia laid her palm on his forehead and then flipped it over for dramatic effect.

Steve gave a hoarse laugh which Claudia reciprocated with a smile as he reached his hand up to hers. Her movements stilled as he encased his larger hand over hers.

Warm.

That was all that her mind registered.

He saw how her smile fell as her gaze focused in on their joined hands. "You okay, Claude?" He made a move to untangle his hands from hers when he saw tears well up in her eyes.

"Claude?" He shifted closer to her and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. The movement roused her from her trance.

She looked up at him, a tear finally falling down her cheek and looking absolutely broken. "Claudia." His other hand reached to wipe the tear from her cheek.

"I thought," she stopped as she gave him a half-hearted smile. She sniffled. "I – I thought that you left me again."

"Claude…" He trailed off. And suddenly, Steve saw all the underlying fears that she desperately tried to keep hidden. Commitment issues, abandonment issues, insecurities, intimacy issues, her need for approval, etc.

Before Steve could say anything else, the junior agent spoke again, "I thought you were dead, Steve. And all I could think about was how terrible I felt the last time you died. I don't think I can go through that again. I can't lose you, Steve. Not again." Her eyes drifted towards the floor and her voice cracked as she whispered, "Not again."

Steve sat up straighter in his hospital bed and took both of her hands in his, forcing her to look at him. "I will never leave you, Claude. I will always find a way to get back to you, no matter what."

When she didn't respond, he admitted, "When I was saw Olivia again, I never wanted to leave. And then I realized that staying with Olivia meant that I was dead. I fought to get out of there; to get back to you."

"But-"

"I know. I love Olivia; I always will, but if staying with her meant being away from the Warehouse and you and this life, then I didn't want it. She told me that she was my guide back to reality and that I had a choice. I made that choice to be with you."

"This sounds awfully like a Nicholas Sparks novel," she laughed, tears staining her cheeks.

It took all of the courage he could muster to say his next words. "And I hope it ends like one."

"What?" Startled by his response, she pulled her hands from his grasp.

"I mean, with the two people, ya know, getting together, not all of the stuff in between. Well, I guess, our problems are a lot worse than the characters in his books. Like death and mystical artifacts with supernatural powers and people trying to destroy and rule the word and-"

In an attempt to stop him from rambling, she told him to stop in a rather loud voice. She paced in front of him as he moved to sit at the edge of the bed, his feet almost touching the floor. The irony about the situation was not lost on her; him, the one rambling and her, the one trying to make sense of everything.

"You're gay." She stopped to face him. He gave a nod. "That means you like guys." He gave another nod. "I'm not a guy." Nod. "And I never will be." Nod. "But despite all that, you have feelings for me." Nod. "Like, non-platonic romantic feelings where you want me and you to be together." Nod. "Feelings that give you butterflies and weird thoughts and dreams and stuff."

"Well, sometimes."

The tension started to dissipate when she cracked a smile, "So, on our first case together when we were on that stakeout and you denied my advances and naïve assumptions…"

Steve rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile himself, "Yeah, yeah. Let it all out. Make fun."

Claudia took a step forward. "I did say in a year if we were both single…" His heart started beating a little faster when she took another step forward.

He let out a sigh of frustration as she spun on her heel and walked farther away from him. Teasing, she said, "It's been almost three years, Steve. If you were only a bit faster."

"Claudia." Exasperation kicked in, but she kept milking this new revelation as usual.

"Now who's gonna be my gay best friend? BFFEWYLION? Are you gonna be my Boyfriend For Ever Whether I Like It Or Not? MY BFEWILION?" Claudia turned back towards him with a wry smile.

"You're enjoying this way too much." A mischievous glint in her eyes made him internally gulp.

"How can't I?! My hot best friend who also happens to be gay just admitted to me – his _brilliant_ partner who's a _woman_ – that he has a crush on me! Oh, I can't _wait _to tell Pete! He's gonna be so heartbroken. Artie will probably kill you, but you know, that won't change the fact that you have this huge crush on me that makes you straight. Straight? Bi? What's the right word? Hmmm, Jinksy?" She walked towards him.

Despite her poking fun at him, all he could say was, "You just called me hot."

"Yes, I did. It's a fact. Is this a new revelation? Did I just boost up your self-esteem, Jinksy? Damn, I'm going to have to live with your newfound ego. I should've just called you good looking. Dare I say, handsome?"

Steve's heart did a backflip in his chest. The machine monitoring his heartbeat gave him away. Claudia noticed.

"Oooh, look! I just made your heart race!" She rushed over to the monitor's display, tracing her finger along the spikes.

"Let's do a little experiment, shall we?"

_Oh, God. Please, no._

She slowly made her way towards him with each sentence.

"What would happen if I told you that you're extremely good looking?"

Beep.

"Ooh, look!" She was getting closer. "If I told you that every time I see you with your shirt off, I can't help but to stare?"

BEEP.

She stood in between his legs. "That your smile is infectious."

Beep. BEEP.

Her eyes searched his. "That I get lost in your eyes."

BEEP. Beep.

Her fingers ran through the tiny strands of hair that had grown out. "That you're the highlight of my day."

BEEP. BEEP.

Her finger ran his way down his cheek. "That I'm so lucky to have you in my life."

BEEPBEEP.

Her thumb brushed his bottom lip. "That I might have a crush on you too." His eyes fluttered closed.

BEEPBEEPBEEP.

She was so close to him now; he could feel her breath skim across his lips. "That I've had one since forever."

BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP.

Her lips finally touched his as he stood up, his feet hitting the cold floor. His arms encased her waist as hers wrapped around his neck. As he kissed her back with equal passion, there was surprisingly no tension. It wasn't weird at all. _Strange. _

His train of thought was abruptly cut off when her tongue brushed his bottom lip.

_Damn. _

He pulled her closer towards himself, never wanting to let go. And if he could help it, he wouldn't. But the need for oxygen greatly surpassed his need to want, so reluctantly, he parted from her.

"Wow," was all he could say.

For a moment, the only sounds that could be heard was their heavy breathing and the rapid beeps of his heartrate monitor.

A blush crept its way onto her cheeks as she let out a laugh.

It was beautiful. _She_ was beautiful.

"Guess the experiment was a success." He stated, his ear-to-ear grin making her smile.

"Guess, it was." She responded.

"But you know what they say about experiments, right?" Steve's voice was teasing as his eyes turned to a shade of dark cerulean.

Claudia's breath hitched. The beeps got louder.

"All experiments should have more than one trial to offer the best result." He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Are you looking for a different result?"

Steve shrugged, his finger tentatively skimming across the thin fabric of her upper arm.

"You know, doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result is the definition of insanity." Her gaze never deterred from his. Her voice was hesitant as if silently asking him if this is what he really wanted, that she wouldn't hold anything against him if he chose to back out, choosing that this was a mistake; that it was insane.

He leaned in and as searched her eyes, he said, "I'm more than content with the result that I have. But maybe I can discover new things along the way." Still seeing a hesitant look in her eyes, he assured her, "Who said insanity was a bad thing?"

Smiling into the kiss, Claudia's arms wrapped around his neck again, accepting his words.

She could hear the beeps of the heart rate monitor grow closer together and louder in the background as they kissed. There was no denying that her heart was beating faster too – forever in time with his.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading! Virtual scotchies and milk to all that review! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**So, I just realized that the ****_real_**** reason why I wrote this fic was not at all fulfilled, so here's another chapter! :)**

**Hope you enjoy~**

**Disclaimer: I do not own ****_Warehouse 13_**** nor any of its characters.**

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It was a rare weekend to have no pings and Steve was absolutely grateful. After what happened to him, he needed a little time off to make sense of everything again and reevaluate everything that Olivia had told him – whether it was a hysterical delusion or not.

Rain poured heavily outside which meant a day full of being lazy and cooped up inside the Bed &amp; Breakfast.

Instead of family bonding stuff, the agents of Warehouse 13 each tended to their own needs. Artie fine-tuned a new (and almost complete) song as he (and Trailer) baked some oatmeal scotchies. Pete and Myka had stayed in Pete's room for some well-deserved alone time (they had just spent the whole day watching movies and reading – the walls were thin). As for Steve, he spent the whole day in bed with his lovely, _lovely_ girlfriend. Yes, girlfriend. They were comfortable in their complicated relationship to define what they were to each other, but not to anyone else. Everyone else would freak. Including Trailer.

They were best friends – and still are – before this newfound relationship, but they didn't know everything about one another. So, they spent the whole day talking about anything and everything.

Steve had come into Claudia's room after hearing her sing while playing the guitar from his room across the hall. He asked her how she learned to play. She had asked if he knew how to play any instruments. The proverbial ball continued to roll as one topic of conversation led to another and another and another and now, here they were: on the bed, Steve leaning against the headboard with his legs outstretched in front of him with Claudia on her knees in between his legs as she traced a gentle finger over his lower hip.

They had moved on to the topic of tattoos after he had admitted that he hated needles. She had curiously asked how on earth he had managed to get a tattoo and he'd responded with a witty remark about being a Buddhist and centered.

Claudia had mocked, "So brave," to which he gave a smirk.

His Henley was draped around his neck, the sleeves tossed over his shoulders. The right side of his jeans and boxers were slightly pulled down to reveal a patch of ink on (or rather, under) his skin.

"How have I not noticed this before?!" She asked rhetorically as she analyzed the tattoo, trying to decipher the hidden meaning to it.

"Because I was careful to hide it whenever my shirt was off."

"Sneaky, sneaky," Claudia teased as she brushed her thumb over it. It was the words '_Keep the Faith'_ scribbled in cursive with a small infinity sign below it. It was small and rather feminine, but it reminded her of the curt video he had made during his undercover operation with Sykes. "When'd you get it?"

She looked up at him as her fingers stilled, her hand resting on his hip comfortably. "When I was 24; it was my first year at the ATF."

Her silence willed him to continue. "It was something Olivia used to say. My first year at the ATF was tough, the whole human lie detector thing wasn't making me any friends and everybody thought I was crazy. I was an outcast."

"Steve Jinks, an outcast? No way." Steve only nodded.

"People didn't like that I was a rookie and outshining them."

"So, what made you get the tattoo? Pray tell."

"One day as I was looking through old photos, a note fell out. It was from Olivia and it had this message at the end."

"I bet you were scared to death when the guy pulled out the tattoo gun. I mean, the needle's huge. I mean, not length-wise, but it's thick! And the gun is scary looking. Come to think of it, it kinda looks like a Tesla with all its-"

"Wait, how do you know what a tattoo gun looks like?" His eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed. It was cute.

"TV," she responded quickly.

"Uh-uh. I don't believe you." Steve smirked.

Claudia sighed as she sat up on her haunches straighter. "I may have gotten a tattoo a couple of months ago," she sheepishly said.

"And you didn't tell me?! Bad, bad straight bestie." He mocked, reiterating her words on her 21st birthday.

"Oh, shut up. You didn't even tell me that you got a tattoo that you'd had since forever. The only reason I know about it is because we slept together!"

"Yes, Claudia, yell that out because we want _everyone_ in this house to know that we – a gay male and a straight female – are together."

"Loosely used, by the way."

"What, _'together'?"_

"No, genius. _'Gay.'_ Because you're technically not gay anymore. Speaking of which, how did this whole revelation come about?"

"Ah-ah. You still haven't shown me your tattoo."

Claudia let out a dramatic sigh as she acquiesced, "Oh, alright, but only if you answer my question afterwards."

"Deal."

Claudia gave Steve a long glance before turning her head and holding her hair up in a makeshift ponytail with her hand.

He moved her ring-cluttered index finger from behind her ear to look closer. It was a tiny arrow facing up with the letter _N_ above it.

"A compass?"

Claudia nodded as she dropped the strands of her hair and faced him. "As in Rhetticus' compass. I know its irony at its finest – permanently inscribing the very thing that led to the disappearance of my brother – but it's the same thing that got him back."

"Well, I think it's heartfelt." Steve said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Oh, you're just saying that because I'm your girlfriend." A smile danced its way onto her face.

Steve nodded. "I still can't believe that I didn't notice that."

Claudia shrugged. "It's tiny. And I always have my hair down." She shifted in his grasp, now sitting with her legs crossed – pretzel-style – in between his legs, her arms wrapped around his neck. It had been a few weeks since his little mishap with the pocket watch and he hadn't bothered to groom, so his hair had grown out quite a bit, a light stubble growing out as well. She played with the hairs at the nape of his neck and came to the conclusion that she quite liked him with hair. In fact, she doesn't think that she had ever seen him without a "high and tight" military style haircut.

"Your turn," she pressed.

"Fine," he said with a half-hearted attempt at an exasperated sigh that only made her smile. "When I was 'dead' for three minutes, Olivia was there." He bent and unbent the index finger and middle finger on both hands to gesture a quote over _dead_.

"We were talking and oddly enough, in your room. Which I guess was a subconscious resort to someplace safe. You were there playing the guitar and singing – she said you were my anchor and that that was a version of you from my memories or something – and we got to talking about you. She was saying stuff and all of the dots suddenly connected and I realized I was in love with you. I mean, I've always loved you, but I-" His words finally caught up with his brain. He started to stammer.

It was adorable.

A slight chuckle slipped out of her mouth as she breathed, "I love you too." She ran her hands through his short hair.

A wide smile overtook his worried face as he pulled her in to kiss her.

It was a few minutes before they started talking again. They were in the same position, but now with giant smiles plastered on their faces and swollen lips.

"So, uh, where were we?" He asked, flustered.

She laughed. "You said I was in the dream or whatever and this room was there too. Wait, if this room was a place of safety for you, is that where you went when you got whammied?" She asked curiously.

Steve shook his head.

"I was in the warehouse." Steve said.

"That makes sense." Claudia nodded as her hands cupped the side of his face, comfortably playing with the hair around his ears.

"I came up to the office and found Artie working and then you came in-"

"Me?" Curiosity filled her.

"Yeah. You were younger, had a different style; it was weird. When I spoke, it was as if you guys couldn't hear me. I finally realized that I was thrust back in time."

"That must've been cool. What happened?"

"It was weird," Steve admitted. "You were pissed."

"About what?"

Steve shrugged, "I don't know." The event played back in his mind. "I can't remember everything, but I do remember you were ranting about Artie giving you some advice about being yourself."

"Oh." Claudia's hands fell to her sides as she started playing with her fingers.

"That wasn't real, was it? I thought it was just something my imagination cooked up. Then again, artifacts do crazy things." He let out a chuckle and Claudia mimicked it, but only half-heartedly. She was still looking down at her fingers. "Claudia?" He asked, his voice low. She didn't respond.

"Claude, look at me." He placed two fingers under her chin and gingerly led her eyes back to his. "Did that happen?"

He could see her eyes searching his. He could see a thousand insecurities speeding through her mind, a mile a minute.

Steve sat a bit straighter and cupped her face delicately. "Claudia, look at me." It took a few moments, but eventually she did.

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, revealing her tattoo. "You're not a giant freakazoid with no real past or interests."

Her silence was ever present.

"You're Claudia Donovan, junior agent – and a spectacular one too – of Warehouse 13 and next in line to become Caretaker! You're amazing, Claude! Can't you see that?"

"No," She huffed. "All I see is a girl foolish enough to believe that she's not going to be abandoned again. All I can see is a scared little girl hiding behind a giant wall she's built herself over the years manipulating the world into thinking she's a grown up just like them."

"Claude…" _He never knew her insecurities ran so deep._

Claudia let out a sigh. "It's okay, Steve. Really, it's fine." She moved to get off the bed, but Steve held her in place.

"No, it's not okay." His hands kept their hold on her face. "You're more than just a warehouse agent. You're more than just a girl with a really messed up past. Claude, you're this extremely talented guitarist and singer-songwriter that's wickedly smart and more than well versed in technology. You're this beautiful and downright sexy woman who's also an amazing, fiercely loyal, intelligent, independent, down-to-earth, strong-willed, remarkable person. You just happen to have a bad past; it doesn't define you. If it did, then why on Earth would Mrs. F allow you to work at the Warehouse if you weren't such a great person? Why would the warehouse trust you to become its next caretaker? Why would Leena have had let you into her home? Why would Artie treat you like you were his own daughter? Why would Pete and Myka do anything to keep you safe? Why would I trust you with everything?"

She still didn't respond, but tears fell freely from her eyes.

"And if you can't see that, then I'll always be here to tell you. We all will."

"Really?" Her voice was small and he could hear the sound of her world being slowly rebuilt again as she looked at him.

Steve nodded. "Everyone else who says otherwise be damned." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Plus, you have me now to talk about the top secret job with. I'll be your _one_."

Claudia gave him a wide smile in response.

"But that whole onion thing is a deal-breaker. You know how much I hate onions," he teased.

Through tears and laughter, she slapped his chest playfully. "Cheeky bastard."

Steve pulled her in for a hug and kissed the top of her head. "Yeah, but I'm your cheeky bastard."

Claudia couldn't help but smile.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I had writing it! Please be so kind as to leaving a review; I would really appreciate it!**


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